Trouble Breathing
by astP
Summary: Hermione helps Draco make an important decision. Or something.


TROUBLE BREATHING

AN: This was supposed to be angst, except I can't really write it. So it's weird. It's been a while since I've posted here (first time for HP!) so please don't be too mean!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything Harry Potter. Alkaline Trio own the song Trouble Breathing, the lyrics of which inspired this, though I took out the actual quote cause it looked lame.

* * *

_The date of your initiation has been scheduled for next week._

_Be ready._

_Mother_

Draco reread the note for what seemed like the millionth time.

So, this was really it.

He had always sort of known that it was coming, that he would be expected to join the Death Eaters in serving the Dark Lord - of course he had - but it had always seemed like a far off eventuality. Nothing to worry about because it didn't matter yet, and by the time it did... well, that would be then, and Draco was never one to worry about the future.

Except 'then' had finally become 'now'.

Over the summer before he was to start his sixth year at Hogwarts his mother had dropped not-so-subtle hints that his time was fast approaching - with her husband and countless other Death Eaters in Azkaban the Dark Lord was in need of more followers, and Narcissa was only too eager to provide.

It had been almost a relief to get back to school, but he had known it would only be a matter of time.

Draco sighed and shifted uncomfortably. The roof of Hogwarts was not the most comfortable of places to sit, but it couldn't be beaten for seclusion when you wanted to be alone.

He read the note again.

This was...

...Did he want this?

Did it matter what he wanted?

Draco crumpled the note in his fist, angry. He had no say in this matter at all, and that bothered him the most out of everything. It wasn't particularly the moral implications of killing and torturing those who had done nothing to deserve it, and it wasn't even the fact that he would be entering a life of servitude (though he thought of it with distaste) that got to him.

He didn't want to do this... because he had to.

Draco Malfoy did exactly as he pleased, said what he wanted to whomever he wanted and no-one EVER forced him to do anything.

Except now his Mother was making him take this life altering step with no thought for what HE might want. He had no choice, no _real _choice. There was the easy way, and there was the hard way (which was far too confusing and meant 'standing up for what you believe in' and crap like that). More like the impossible way. Voldemort wouldn't stand for it and even if he did, Draco's family undoubtedly wouldn't.

He didn't think he could brave his father's (not that his mother was a woman to be crossed either) wrath when he got out of Azkaban. And Draco knew he would.

The irony was that without the pressure of his parents Draco would certainly have jumped at the chance to become a Death Eater as soon as possible - become an active supporter of the most powerful Dark Wizard ever? No self-respecting Slytherin would turn down that opportunity!

As a child Draco had seen his Father return home after a night out upholding his Lord's ideals covered in blood, a glint in his eye and wearing a satisfied smirk.

He'd wanted to be just like him.

More recently he'd seen Lucius arrive back at the Manor barely able to walk - Voldemort having thrown a tantrum after a plan had gone awry and taken it out on his followers.

Lucius Malfoy - powerful, pureblooded and rich, was nothing but a minion to the man he'd given his life to. Nothing. He was now in Azkaban! With others just like him! Draco supposed the Dark Lord would free them when the fancy struck him.

He had looked up to his father for so long - he had everything, and feared no-one.

With one exception.

None of that seemed to matter when serving Voldemort - Lucius did his dirty work like every other Death Eater did.

When _he _became a Death Eater, Draco wondered, would he be treated the same as Crabbe and Goyle? He knew that they would become Death Eaters soon, if they weren't already. Now there was a thought Draco couldn't bear - more than _five years _of ruling over his fellow Slytherins... meaningless once he had that mark branded on his arm.

Now he'd started thinking about it, there were a lot more reasons than he'd first thought regarding his reluctance to join Voldemort...

But did he dare actually _do _anything about it?

Draco stood, breathing in the crisp night air and walking to the small stone wall that marked the end of the roof tiles and the beginning of the school's walls... and seemingly endless drop to the ground below.

He leaned over the side and squinted into the darkness. It was a long way down.

Draco smiled. If he just leaned a bit further, it would all be over. That'd show 'em. No-one tells Draco Malfoy what to do.

He chuckled, entertained by the notion, imagining the shame his parents would feel, the rage of Voldemort when they heard he'd rather die than follow him. Draco Malfoy taking the noble way out...

The amusement was short-lived however, and Draco soon turned and sat on the wall with his back to the shadowy Hogwarts grounds. He flung away the crumpled note and kicked at the roof tiles mutinously, cursing under his breath. He almost wished he could do it.

Jump.

But no. He snorted - like hell he could. He'd always thought it was strange that those who committed suicide were generally seen as weak. Sure, they were escaping their problems, but if things were that bad then why the hell not? Draco couldn't imagine consciously making the decision to end his own life, he liked to think of it as the Slytherin in him coming through - that self preservation instinct.

But maybe he was just a coward.

He continued to kick at the tiles, his boots making a rhythmic thumping that was loud in the quiet of the night.

"Who's there?"

It was a female voice, clear but wary. Draco froze.

"I heard you, and whoever you are you shouldn't be up here!" the girl continued.

He recognised that self righteous tone...

"I'm a Prefect and the longer you hide the worse your punishment will be!"

...Granger. Out on patrol.

Draco grimaced. There was no way out of this one. She'd find him... he may as well reveal himself, maybe have a little fun.

"Easy, Mudblood." He called from where he sat. "It's only one of your pureblooded superiors - and a prefect to boot. Seems I was more efficient in my patrol than you... I've been here a while."

Hermione materialised out of the darkness, a frown on her face. "Malfoy," she said grimly. "We both know that you patrol on Thursdays. Today is Tuesday." She smiled triumphantly. "Twenty... no! Thirty points from Slytherin!"

Draco looked horrified. "My God... thirty points...?" he whispered, looking completely aghast.

Hermione nodded, tremendously pleased with herself and his apparent distress.

Malfoy stood before stepping onto the wall and raising a dramatic hand to his forehead. "I don't think I can go on... knowing I was responsible for dealing such a blow to my house's chances of... winning the House Cup." He turned, facing the grounds and adding a tremulous sigh for good measure.

Hermione, of course, was far from stupid and had long since realised he was playing another of his stupid games and glared at his back, wishing she could give him a good push and send him plummeting to his doom.

However, she could never do a thing like that, and just seeing him standing right on the edge was making her increasingly nervous. "Get down from there and go to bed right now!" she snapped. "Ten more points from Slytherin!"

"God, no!" Draco wailed as he shuffled closer to the edge, enjoying himself.

"Malfoy, get down! It's dangerous!" As soon as she said it she regretted it.

"Dangerous?" he asked innocently, his demeanour changing instantly, "What? This?" He started to walk back and forth across the thin wall, getting faster and wobbling precariously at times, grinning at the stricken look on Granger's face.

"Stop it! You could fall!"

He chuckled. "And you'd hate that, wouldn't you? _Please_. It'd make your day."

Draco thought of Granger spreading the news - Potty and Weasel laughing like Christmas had come early. Come to think of it, most of the school hated him, didn't they? Dumbledore'd probably hold a party 'in his memory' except really it would just be to celebrate that he was gone...

Okay, that was morbid. He stopped chuckling.

"I may hate you, but I don't want to watch you fall to your death right in front of me!" Hermione cried.

"Nice. You'd rather just hear the good news after I'm gone then?"

"No, I-"

"You don't want me dead?" he asked disbelievingly.

Hermione thought. Of course she'd always joked with Ron and Harry about Malfoy getting what he deserved and the various gruesome ways in which it could come about, but telling him outright that she wanted him to DIE was completely different.

"_You _want _me _dead!" She retorted weakly.

Draco looked at her a moment. In a week it wouldn't matter anyway. He wasn't exactly sure how these things worked... maybe Voldemort would have him hunt down the Mudbloods of Hogwarts one by one once he became a Death Eater, or maybe Dumbledore would just _know_ when he got the Mark, like he seemed to know everything that went on in the school, and chuck Draco out of Hogwarts to go and serve the Dark Lord full time... "I suppose I do." He agreed flatly.

Hermione heard the odd tone of voice and scrutinised him as he began to walk the wall once more.

"You could push me," he said suddenly. "I'd never see it coming, and you know you want to."

Hermione felt ashamed of her earlier urge to do exactly that. "What? Malfoy-"

"I couldn't bring myself to _jump_..." he continued, interrupting her, "...but if I were to slip accidentally then that wouldn't matter, would it?"

What was this about? He seemed to be musing aloud, she thought. Or was this all an act to freak her out? She wouldn't put it past him. And if it was, it was starting to work.

Hermione steeled herself, refusing to let him get to her. "I'm leaving," she announced. "I can't make you come down but don't think the teachers won't hear about this!" She turned decisively, robes swishing about her.

"Do you think I'm evil?" He sounded genuinely curious.

She stopped, shocked. Evil? His father certainly was, but... Malfoy? What in the...?

No, she told herself. Ignore his stupid mind games. "Yes I do." she said firmly, stalking away.

"Hmm." Malfoy continued to balance on the wall. Evil, huh?

Hermione shook off her uneasiness and left the roof as quickly as she could, only stopping to pick up a piece of paper someone had dropped. Did other students have no respect for their school, dropping litter everywhere? She went back inside and began to descend the staircase, but paused partway down as she noticed there was writing on the paper.

Her eyes widened as she realised what it said.

Draco craned his neck up to look at the stars, glad to be alone again. He closed his eyes, feeling tired. Of everything.

Now, where was he before that rude interruption...

"Is _this_ why you're acting so strangely?" Granger asked shrilly from behind him.

His eyes snapped open abruptly and he lost his balance, falling backwards... onto Granger. She gasped, winded, as they landed in an awkward heap on the roof.

Draco jumped up quickly. "Get away from me!" he muttered, making a half-hearted show of dusting his robes off. What was she going on about now? There was no way she could know...

Hermione rolled her eyes having not expected anything less than his contempt, and getting up she produced a piece of paper that she proceeded to wave in his face accusingly. "This is-"

"-Mine!" Draco snarled and lunged for it. Had she read it? She must have done!

"Wait till I tell Dumbledore!" she cried wildly.

"No! Give it-"

"Death Eater!"

"I'm not!"

"Yet-"

They wrestled for the paper, unaware of how close they were getting to the edge of the roof... until Hermione yanked her paper-filled hand away from Malfoy and pulled away sharply in triumph... stumbling on the low wall and toppling over it, disappearing with a shriek into the darkness.

It happened so quickly.

It was instinct that made Draco grab her wrist, but as she hung there, desperate hands and feet scrabbling for a hold on the wall and terror in her eyes, he wasn't entirely sure what he should do now.

No-one would know he had even been there...

She could have simply tripped in the dark during her patrol...

He'd have a chance at being top of the class for once, the ambitious Slytherin within him realised.

All he had to do was let go...

...And Hermione Granger would _die_.

Because of him.

It wasn't like it was really _murder _- she would've fallen if he hadn't stopped her, all he had to do was remove himself from the equation. And even if it was... wouldn't he have to murder Muggleborns in a week anyway? Why wait till then?

As they stared at each other, Hermione seemed to read his mind. "Getting into practice?" she spat, The tremble in her voice belying the fear she felt. "Why wait to start the killing? Will I be your first?"

She kicked her legs and bit her lip to stifle a whimper at the nothingness below. Malfoy's grip was hurting her wrist but she wasn't going to complain about the one thing between her and certain death.

Would he really do it? He'd always just been a particularly cruel boy that had been in her classes at school and was mean to her sometimes. Could he really kill her? His eyes were wide and anxious, not the expression she expected, but this was Malfoy. Of course he could.

Why did it have to be him with her now? He hated her, she was nothing, less than nothing to him! Couldn't it have been anyone else with her life in their hands, literally? She glared up at him, waiting for the grin and the loosened grip, maybe a mocking wave as she fell.

It didn't come. Malfoy was torn - whatever he decided to do there would be consequences. He knew what Voldemort would want.

What did he want? Was it worth going against everything he had been raised for?

...Was he brave enough to do it?

Granger was brave, braver than him - in Gryffindor for a reason, of course. There were tears in her eyes but she was still looking at him pleadingly, hopelessly though... He could tell what _she _thought he would do.

He should let go, right?

She was nothing but a thorn in his side. In You-Know-Who's side.

Nobody.

He barely even knew her, it was only know-it-all Granger!

"Draco, _please_..."

Grey eyes met brown in surprise. Why did she have to say that? Say his name like she _knew_ him! Like... she was someone to him! How could he let go when-

He _knew _he should do it...

But she...

He didn't owe her anything, right?

He _knew _he should do it, but...

But…

But Draco Malfoy didn't do anything he didn't want to.

He may be an annoying, egotistical, selfish bastard but he was _not_ a murderer.

He gritted his teeth and pulled her up.

Hermione gasped for breath as she fell to the reassuringly solid roof in absolute relief. That was... utterly terrifying! She had come so close... If it wasn't for... Wait... She stole a glance at Malfoy, who sat nearby looking quite shaken himself.

He had saved her.

And, she couldn't help thinking, maybe himself as well.

"I've changed my mind," Hermione said quietly, still a little breathless. "About... the evil thing."

He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his hands to his face. Trying to work out what this meant. He knew she wanted to know, too.

She always wanted to know everything.

"Why...?" she breathed.

He half smiled a bit at her predictability and then frowned into the distance, seemingly asking himself the same question. "I..."

It came out as a croak and he composed himself before speaking again. "I do what I want. And I..." He picked up the note that had caused so much trouble and stared at it hard.

"...I don't want this." He said finally, sounding almost surprised.

Their eyes met, for once without animosity, and there was a strange feeling of everything being different.

He rose to his feet, and after a moment, offered his hand to help her up.

Hermione took it.

Determinedly, Draco crunched the paper in his fist then threw it off the roof and away into the approaching dawn.

end

* * *

AN: I know, unresolved and pretty pointless. But I kinda liked it, and figure people have posted worse. Also wanted to try a one-off before (maybe) embarking on anything longer, with a more in-depth plot.

astP


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